


Found & Lost

by nocturnal_cannon



Category: Banana Fish
Genre: Alternate Ending, Ash Lynx Lives, Banana Fish Anime Spoilers, Banana Fish Ending Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon Banana Fish, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, gays, still mad about it, still sad about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnal_cannon/pseuds/nocturnal_cannon
Summary: What happened after the end of the Banana Fish anime (excluding the manga), if Ash did go to Japan like Eiji had wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

I wake up early in the morning, turning over, fighting the compulsion to go, though I know I can’t win. Antsy, I get up and put on whatever clothes are lying on the floor. The sun is starting to come up. I run. Leap down the stairs of the building. One time I even sprained my ankle on the way down but kept going. I sprint down the street. 

I don’t have gym clothes or anything like that. I’m running in my torn jeans or shorts and sandals. I couple of times I’ve picked up Eiji’s pyjama pants by mistake and ran in those. 

I know ‘running away from your problems’ is just a saying, but for me it’s a physical urge. My nightmares or thoughts wake me up, they’re swarming in my head. I can’t do anything but run away, I need to escape. 

The idea of solace somewhere in the distance keeps my feet pounding pavement, well past when the stitches grab at my sides. My breaths tearing down my throat bring me comfort, in a way. The wound in my stomach begins to flare. When I hurt myself in these small pains, it’s like a little bit of atonement. 

The second librarian saved me. She walked over to wake me up, like the first had, but had noticed the blood sliding down my ankle and called for an ambulance. I knew I should feel grateful, but I didn’t especially. I did remember feeling grateful for the numbing miasma my mind drifted downwards in while I bled out. When I came back to my senses, as if waking up abruptly from a deep sleep, it was to the searing pain in my gut, freshly stitched. More than five weeks of healing later, I was able to change the ticket Eiji had left me. 

It wasn’t a decision I took lightly. I had to leave my entire identity behind me. But I had been given this second chance, though I hadn’t really wanted it, and I had to do something different than before. I had to. My father didn’t want me. Griffin was gone, Skip was gone. Dino and so many others, all gone. 

Sing had come to see me in the hospital. He wanted to kill me again. For shooting Lao when he attacked me. Sing said if I left town then he wouldn’t come after me. I wasn’t afraid of him, that wasn’t why I was going. I would prefer to die by his hand than most anyone else’s. At least I would know why and I’d be able to look into his eyes while he took me out with some sense of dignity. 

Blanca came in with a few of the guys. They all advised me to leave and he would be gone again soon, too. Who else did I have left? 

“You have a way out,” Blanca said.

“I already did try a way out,” I snorted. “But the damned paramedics pulled me back.” 

When I told Eiji over the phone that I had decided to come, each of his sobs were punctuated by choking laughter. 

“That is, if you still want me to,” I said. 

“Of course, I do,” he laughed. “I’m so glad.” 

Still, I felt an invisible tail between my legs when I walked onto the boarding ramp. I nervously checked over my shoulder. I had to come unarmed to the airport, of course, but if I could just make it onto the plane, I’d be fine. Let them see me run away. I had a backpack on, inside were the only belongings I had to take with me; a few shirts and a couple of my favourite books. 

Hours after taking off, after sorting through all my thoughts on the people I’d left down on the ground, I finally fell asleep. Many, many more hours later the plane descended into Tokyo, Japan.


	2. Chapter 2

Eiji and Ibe both met me at the airport. Eiji unabashedly hugged me and I leaned into it. I needed it, I hadn’t even realized. Desperately and deeply. I inhaled; he smelled like himself but a bit different in his home country. He was crying, his tears dampened my shirt. 

Everything was so different, it was like being on another planet. The winter in Tokyo was much warmer than in New York. They led me to the train station underneath the airport and we rode outside of the city to Ibe’s house in the suburbs. The buildings were utterly strange and old ladies in his neighbourhood openly stared at me. We stayed at Ibe’s for a few days while the two of them helped me get acquainted with Japan. They got me my own subway card and a new phone. I downloaded a couple apps to study Japanese with but I was really terrible. I couldn’t remember any of the foreign symbols and got frustrated when the phone screen blinked the errors in red. The jet lag had me falling into bed right after dinner. I slept in Ibe’s guest room while Eiji was on the sofa. I had to practice using chopsticks to eat but my patience stopped short with those too. 

After the few days were up, Eiji said he needed to go back to school in a different area of town and asked if I wanted to go to his dormitory. 

“Is there enough room for the two of you there?” Ibe asked while we were on our way out. It was winter; Eiji had a jacket on while I was only in my shirt as it felt so warm to me still. 

“Yeah, for sure.” Eiji said. They spoke in English to each other as courtesy to me. 

We took the train for almost an hour to a different part of Tokyo. His campus was quiet, a few students walked here and there. They didn’t pay much mind to me. Pretty much everywhere I had been in Japan so far was peaceful. I had to keep reminding myself to take deep, slow breaths. There was no fighting and dodging needed here. I didn’t have a gun shoved down the back of my jeans and I probably never would again. 

“This is it,” Eiji opened his arms once we were inside his room. It really was only one room; a small study area and a bed. The bathrooms and kitchen were shared by other students on the floor. His room was light grey with no character or anything fancy. He had some sports posters taped above his desk and the comforter was blue with a white Japanese pattern. That was the only colour the place. 

I dropped my bag on the floor. “Spacious,” I said flatly. 

I sat on his bed and looked down. Suddenly a deep anxiety had closed in around me. What the hell was I doing? 

He sat next me, the bed squeaked. “Can I hug you?” 

I turned my face towards him but didn’t look up, hair hanging. “Yeah,” I muttered. 

His arms closed around me and I let him hold onto me for a long time until finally, I relaxed. 

“I know you’re probably getting a culture shock,” he said when we broke apart. “I got it too, when I first went to New York.” 

“You did?” He had fit in to the gang so quickly that I had nearly forgotten that boyish Eiji I had first met so long ago. 

“Anyway,” Eiji stood and opened his arms wide again. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor. Maybe someone has a futon we can put there.” 

“Don’t make a big show of it,” I smirked. “You know we can share the bed.”


	3. Chapter 3

I ran and ran, until I couldn’t anymore, then turned around and walked slowly back to the dorm, rubber-legged. I came back into the room, tearing off my jacket and shirt. I let them drop to the floor. When Eiji makes his exit from the shower room he’s shirtless too, though clean water slides down his neck instead of sweat. I look at him and clear my throat, so many memories in me at war with the longing for him. How I wish I could press against him, push him back into the shower with me, without flashing back to men who had done the same to me, by force. Men that I hadn’t ever wanted. It was what I had done to survive. I would taint Eiji, like a muddy road burn on his clear skin. 

“Another nightmare?” He offers a concerned look. 

I can’t speak.

He bends to pick up my clothes from the floor. “We can do laundry today.” How quaint. 

He straightens and tries to walk past me but I don’t move out of his way. 

“Ash,” he murmurs. I want to close my eyes with my nose against his chest, but I’m too tall so I lower my face onto his shoulder. 

His scent is too strong. It brings me back to when we first became close in New York, the moment when we had to say goodbye. Dino’s fatass face laughing, Lao’s eyes before he attacked me. Every memory is stabbing through me like lightning. I want a stiff drink. I want to run away again. 

“Come on,” Eiji leads me to his bed. 

“I’m covered in sweat,” I protest.

“I don’t care,” he pulls me down, and curls around me like a shell. 

He strokes my shoulder. He’s suited for this role as my comforter, used to it already. Once my skin begins to warm, he turns my chin to kiss me. It’s not the first time we’ve kissed since I’ve arrived in Japan. Our first night in his dorm, free from Ibe, we couldn’t help ourselves. His excitedly sparking eyes had said everything I needed to know before diving on him. 

But I still couldn’t go all the way. 

I couldn’t separate my need for his physical comfort from my past, the idea of a transaction. I still couldn’t shake it. I don’t want to fuck him out of a feeling of obligation. And I can’t make love to him if I’m inwardly cringing the whole time. 

We’re kissing. I turn onto my other side so I can wrap one hand behind his head. I try to lose my thoughts in the warm pads of his lips and tongue. When his hand slides down to my groin, I stop him.

“I can’t,” I say. 

“Sorry,” he edges away from me. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I just can’t quit thinking about everything,” I say, eyes cast down at his torso. I don’t want to see a look of confusion or disappointment in his eyes. I’m confused too. I can fall into bed with him, grab his hands, even kiss him - no problem. But I can’t take my boxers off. As soon as he goes near there, I go soft. I can’t touch him under his shorts, either. I keep trying to tell myself it’s no big deal, but it is. Eiji is a big deal. He is my absolute last lifeline. I can’t ruin this, I will destroy everything. 

“Tell me,” Eiji says quietly.

“You already know the half of it,” I scoff. 

“Tell me again. I don’t mind.” 

“I’ve corrupted you enough. I’m on the verge of completely ruining you,” I feel tears welling. 

He scoots up so that when he pulls me in again, my face is against his chest. I gasp and another involuntary strange sound escapes me, halfway between a sob and groan. It’s so weak, I hate it, but at the same time, I know I’m safe. Eiji would never try to embarrass me for crying. I realize I’m pinching him in my grip but he hadn’t flinched. He strokes my hair. 

“I can take it… I can take all your pain,” Eiji says onto the top of my head. “Give it all to me.”


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter

Eiji made me go to a therapist, one that spoke English, in Tokyo. She was an American too, I found upon meeting her. I had to take the train there, alone, but it wasn’t too difficult. Just like in NYC.

“I take it you’re not Eiji-san,” she said, her eyes raking in my fair hair. 

He had arranged the appointment under his name, so it could be charged under his health insurance. 

“Ash,” I said as I sat down across from her. “Eiji is my friend.” 

She wore glasses, her black hair was smoothed back into a ponytail. A notepad was balanced on her knee. She opened her hands, “Tell me what brings you here, Ash.” 

“I was raped,” I smirked at her. “Many times. By mostly men. As a child into adulthood. My pimp took the money and beat me.” 

I waited for her shocked and disgusted response, but nothing crossed her face. 

“So, you were trafficked,” she said. 

Eiji also helped me to enroll in his school, he didn’t have to force me this time. I took English literature courses. After I looked over the syllabus, I saw that I had already read most of the required books. I was looking forward to reading them again. My lecture halls were half-filled with other foreigners, the other half of the students were Japanese natives who were studying English.

There were scholarships I could apply for. I used Ibe’s address so that the registrar wouldn’t know I was squatting in Eiji’s room. 

I threw myself into the coursework. After class, I would use the school library to read and take notes. Sometimes there were too many giggling girls there and I would take the bus to the city library to study there instead.

Gradually, I let the Japanese words I heard everyday sink into my memory. I practiced with Eiji so that I became confident in using them at the convenience store and train stations. 

Eventually, I stopped checking over my shoulder as I crossed the university courtyard. Sometimes, I still jumped if something metal in someone’s hands caught the light in the corner of my eye but Eiji assured me that there weren’t many guns in this country. 

I had to maintain good grades in order to keep my scholarship, but it wasn’t difficult for me. Eiji worked at the school print shop, and after he finished he would come find me at the back of the library, pull my head to his body and kiss the top of it. 

We would buy chicken and ramen at the convenience store and eat in the courtyard as night fell, or he would make rice in the dorm and we would watch TV on the bed. He had so many funny stories from his childhood, and I had so many questions about life in Japan. He sometimes bought bizarre, fish-based snacks for me to try, and cry with laughter at my nausea. He would ask me about my books, even though I knew it wasn’t really his thing. 

As time went on, the nightmares lessened. Eiji cradled me in his arms, and I would sleep soundly the night through. I still bolted upright and ran, one in a while, but it was less exhausting with the restful nights in between. 

I saw my therapist every other week. I began to like her, look forward to talking with her. She was stable, like a dock in a roiling ocean. 

I didn’t tell her about the murder or other crimes, in case she had to report me to the police, but I’m sure she assumed such things when I told her about the gang. 

We talked a lot about the word she had used in our first meeting, trafficked. “It’s not your fault,” she reassured. It was something I knew, but at the same time, I didn’t. I knew it was something that had been done to me, but what about my own responsibility. How had I even let myself end up like that?

And eventually, I told her about my problem with Eiji. I asked her if I loved a man because my past had made me gay, if I had had a normal life, would I be with a woman?

“Why do you need a label?” She said. “Maybe you would love Eiji if he was a woman, too. Maybe your love transcends gender. It has certainly crossed other borders; language, race, trauma.” 

I blinked. Such a simplistic explanation had never occurred to me. 

With a year of school under my belt, one of my professors offered me a TA position. I was surprised I didn’t need to offer up a forged résumé or scrape my way into employment. I had a job, a real, legal job. 

Dealing with the other students' questions and sifting through their papers were the first real challenges I had encountered at university. I had a lot to do now, I found less and less time spent waiting for Eiji to pick me up, to steer me around this foreign place. 

I proferred my first paycheck to him. 

“I want to pay you back,” I said. “For all you’ve done for me. For the flight, for letting me live with you for free. You’ve probably covered all kind of expenses I don’t even know about.” 

Tears began to burn the back of my eyes for the first time in ages. Such kindness I did nothing to deserve. 

Eiji took my hands. 

“You’re here now,” he was smiling, big. “That’s all I ever need.”


End file.
